Soul and Soldier
by Efyraa
Summary: He's a soldier, fighting in honor of his title; but he is also a soulful man, taking responsibility for a little girl who was abandoned on the street. An insight story of Trowa and how he would be as a father figure to a little girl looking for a home. HIATUS - possible rewrite.
1. Chapter 1

Soul and Soldier

x- Ok, yes, Ali is an OC, but kind of needed her for the child in this fanfiction. Who else was actually going to play that? Duo? Well, I wouldn't be surprised… This is the multi-chapter sequel to Hidden Warmth that I have neglected for many months. To understand this story, please read my one-shot **Hidden Warmth** before reading this one, please. Kthanksbye.

P.s. Reviews are welcome, of all sorts. No criticism means no improvement and that's just no fun, isn't it? Just don't be rude, yeah? :)

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><p><strong><span>Chapter One<span>**

A small click of the lock and the door to the small apartment opened; inside entered Trowa, as his foot opened the door wider due to his arms being preoccupied with a sleeping child in one and the bag of groceries in another.

He walked over to the counter and dumped the paper bag on it before supporting the little girl with both arms. Her head rested on his shoulder as she continued to dream away in her innocent sleep. He smiled slightly as he secured his grip around her. She still had his over coat draped around her small body, with her little doll propped to her chest. Her brown hair was mussed and greasy, and her face was dirty with small cuts crossing down her chin. Well, wasn't that to be expected when she was living on the street? The streets could not be a safe place for a child her age, and Trowa tutted again at the thought, more than he had when he first saw her scavenging the bins for food.

An oversized shoe fell off her small foot. Trowa ignored it as he placed her on his sofa, sitting beside her and continuing to scrutinize her. He took in how scrawny her physique was and her immune system must've been poor.

With a sigh at the thoughts, Trowa stood up and walked over to the kitchen sink. He pulled out a silver bowl from a nearby cupboard and filled it with warm water. Filling it with small droplets of Dettol, the elite soldier walked over to Ali and stroked her forehead with a soft hand. She groaned as she woke up suddenly and sat up in shock to her new surroundings. She was inside an unfamiliar building, and her heart began to race with panic at the strange environment. However, Ali settled down as she recognised the kind face of the man who had given her a piece of bread when she was hungry and willingly took her off the street.

"This is going to hurt a bit," warned Trowa as he dampened a piece of cloth into the bowl and pressed it gently against Ali's cuts. She winced slightly but her muscles relaxed again as the stinging sensation toned down. He continued to wipe her face with the cloth, removing grease marks and dirt from her face until an actual radiance of fairness could be seen. He tilted his head as his hand ran through a strand of hair, his fingers stuck between various knots.

"C'mon," he said, as she looked up at him with her big brown eyes in question. "Let's get you cleaned up." He stretched his hand out. Ali, with a small smile on her face, took the kind man's hand and followed him to where he was leading her.

He had given her a nice, soothing bath, something she had not experienced in such a long time. Though he had no clothes to provide her, Trowa took it in his custom to wash and dry the clothes she was wearing before giving them to her. Even though they were still ripped, they were still clean enough to sleep in without discomfort.

She sat back on the sofa, her hands around her little doll and head looking down on the ground. Ali honestly did not know what to say, but inside, she was beaming at the thought that she was no longer on the cold streets. She was clean, she felt fresh and even though she didn't know the stranger who had taken her in, she felt a safe sort of presence from his enigmatic aura.

"How old are you Ali?" asked the kind man, as he bent down to her level with his sage eyes softly staring into her big auburn orbs.

"S-seven and..." Ali placed her doll down and stretched out her fingers as she began to count mentally.

"Seven years and five months," she confirmed.

Trowa smiled at the innocence in which little Ali perceived to him, but his heart sank as he took in her age. Such a young little girl left on the streets to fend for herself? He almost felt sick at the thought, but managed to keep it together as usual.

"Are you hungry?" he asked kindly, his position still squatting. Ali bit down on her lip before shaking her head and fidgeting with her fingers. At that very moment, Ali let out a loud yawn, causing Trowa to chuckle slightly. "Come on, lets get you some rest."

He took her hand and led her to his bedroom, where she would stay while he slept on the couch that night.

"I'll be outside if you need anything,"

"Thank you, mister," she said, as she settled in the comfortable bed, pulling the warm white covers over her small form. She let out a yawn before her head hit the plush pillow and her eyes closed.

Trowa couldn't help but smile as he watched her fall asleep into, what he guessed, the most peaceful sleep she will have. He let his deed devour his heart with such warmth and desire, that he felt a sudden urge of devotion to the child he had taken in from the harsh environment of the street.

He placed her little doll besides her before walking away and closing the door softly, letting little Ali sink into the first of her many sweet dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

x- Well, here's chapter two. For anyone actually keeping to date with this story, sorry it's late. I was stuck on ideas to keep the story proceeding without actually jumping too deep into it, and I got food poisoning for the past week. And then I got minor's writers block. FML. So sorry! Enjoy.

x- As I forgot to mention in my last chapter, I do not own Gundam Wing except for my OC, Ali.

x- As said before, REVIEWS are ALWAYS welcome. So is critique but don't be rude. That's just being retarded.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Green eyes slowly opened, as Trowa let out a small yawn. He suppressed a bigger one with the back of his hand before sitting up on the leather couch of his living room. Quickly glancing at the clock upon the wall, the elite soldier concluded that little Ali would still be sleeping, considering how exhausted she was the day before. He smiled slightly as he stood up and slowly walked towards the bedroom in which the child occupied.

Opening the door gently, Trowa saw the little girl snoozing away underneath the thick covers. She looked tiny compared to the gigantic bed where she slept. He smiled slightly as he noticed a small beam flicker upon her lips.

_Good dream,_ he thought as he took a seat at the end of the bed, cautious to not awaken the small child. It was still early; Trowa scrutinized the little girl again; remembering that she was wearing clothes that didn't fit her nor would they be comfortable anymore.

Predicting that Ali would be asleep for at least another hour or so, on the basis of how exhausted she was from the night before, Trowa let her be. He walked into the living room and grabbed his black trench coat and keys before heading out of the door into the city.

xo

Morning melodies sang by robins and sparrows caused auburn eyes to flutter open slowly. Letting out a refreshing yawn, Ali rubbed away the sleep from her eyes before sitting up slowly in the bed, hands clutched around her little doll. Bringing the doll to her chest, Ali studied the foreign room; she was unsure with what to do, but instinctively, she got out of bed and walked out the door.

It was quiet; Ali was clueless with what to do. Usually, she would start searching through the bin for anything deemed to be edible and then scour for more clothes in charity bins; but she wasn't in that nasty place anymore. She stood in the middle of the corridor, looking from left to right in wonder with what her next move to be. Deciding to take the familiar direction, her small bare feet pattered down the cheap, carpeted floor towards the living room and kitchen. She recognized the rooms quickly, but the kind man called Trowa wasn't anywhere to be seen. She moved towards the sofa and clambered upon it, feet kicking to and fro with anticipation. Where was he? Silence filled the apartment and it left Ali confused, questioning with what she was exactly meant to do.

A sudden knock on the door caused the girl to jump off her seat, pulling her dolly to her chest.

"Trowa?" called a gentle but unfamiliar voice, as the knocking continued. Her auburn eyes squinted as the knocking grew louder and louder. Scared and confused by the sudden disruption, Ali ran around the sofa and hid. She brought her knees to her chest and closed her eyes, hoping the stranger outside would go away soon.

xo

Quatre Winner tapped his foot gently against the floor of the corridor, waiting patiently for a reply. It didn't seem Trowa was in. It was fine, he could come back later. Turning around to leave, Quatre stopped as he heard scurrying from where he was standing. He turned back around and decided to knock again, only just a bit louder.

Still no reply? Oh well, he must have just been hearing things. Preparing to leave again, Quatre saw Trowa walking towards his apartment door, carrying a bag of…clothes? He noticed a pink cardigan popping out of the top of the bag. He was slightly confused at this.

"Hello Trowa," he greeted, smiling as he was pleased to see his friend. "I was just about to leave."

"Sorry for making you wait," said Trowa, as his hands scoured through the pocket of his coat for his key.

"Ah, it's no problem. I arrived only a few minutes ago," he answered. "I don't know if you should be worried but I might have heard someone in your apartment? Do you have someone over?"

Trowa raised his head, knowing for sure that little Ali must be awake. Taking a quick glance at his watch, he read it was 11 o'clock. Yes, Ali must be awake by now.

"In fact, I do have somebody over."

xo

Trowa opened the door gently, sharp ears aware of slow and even breathing. Following the path of the sound, the brunette pilot walked around the sofa to find Ali cowering against it. She was staring ahead, her focus entirely on the bookshelf that rested in front of her.

"Hey there," he greeted softly, bending down to the child's level. Ali looked up and smiled somewhat a beam of relief. However, her lips faltered as she saw a stranger with blonde hair and baby blue eyes peering behind him. Questions immediately ran through Ali's head as she looked at him.

_Who is this man? Is he the man who wouldn't stop knocking on the door? Is he nice? Is he Trowa's friend? Is he mad because I didn't answer the door? Is Mister Trowa going to kick me out? Will I have to go back on the streets? Will I have to eat from the bin again? Should I say sorry? _

"I heard knocking and I didn't know what to do," admitted Ali, as she looked down guiltily. She hoped she hadn't made Trowa angry because she liked Trowa oh so very much, and the warmth of the apartment was better than the chill granted by the place where she used to live.

"It's ok. It was only Quatre," Trowa smiled at Ali to show he wasn't mad. The strange blonde man bent down to their level and looked at Ali with a friendly glint in his soft blue eyes.

"Hey sweetie," he greeted kindly, stretching out his hand in greeting. With slight hesitation, Ali put her small palm in his hand and shook it slowly. His smile seemed to widen at her response. "My name is Quatre. What's your name?"

"Hello, mister Q-Qua-Quatre. My name is Ali."

At that very moment, Ali's stomach grumbled in hunger. With a small chuckle, Trowa stood up, copied by Ali and eventually Quatre.

"Let's get you fed, eh?"

Ali giggled silently as she followed Trowa to the kitchen; he pulled out a bowl from the cupboards and a box of cereal as well. Pouring it into the bowl and adding milk, he set it on the table. He pulled out the chair and helped Ali climb on. Shy at first, Ali slowly dug in as she received a smile of encouragement from Trowa.

xo

Trowa ushered Quatre to take a seat on the sofa, bringing him a cup of tea made after he set Ali down to eat her breakfast.

"What brings you here?" asked Trowa, taking a seat himself on the arm chair opposite his fellow pilot. Quatre blew at the steam given off by the tea before looking up.

"A need for a break," he answered simply.

"A business man's work is never done," added Trowa, quoting from Quatre's own words. The Arab smiled at this remark; obviously it was likely of Trowa to remember the exact words of someone from a while ago. Well, this was Trowa he was talking to, wasn't it.

"Hehe, well it seems to me you've been occupied,"

Quatre took a quick glance at the oblivious little girl, who continued to eat her cereal. "Do I need to ask?"

"I took Ali from the street," answered Trowa. "She was searching through a bin for food last night."

Quatre's face fell solemn at the thought of a young child such as little Ali being alone on the cold street with no protection and no stability. Setting his tea on the coffee table in front of him, the Arab boy laced his fingers together, eager to know more about his friend's actions.

"…have you contacted social services?"

"What are they going to do? Track down a parent who left her there in the first place?"

Trowa's voice was of slight bitterness and Quatre really couldn't blame him for this thought. Why track down the parents when they were clearly the reason why little Ali was on the street in the first place? He tapped his fingers on his knees as he thought about the situation for a few more seconds.

"Raising a child is a lot of responsibility," finally advised the Sandrock pilot.

"So is the duty of a soldier."

Quatre smiled at this response. Trowa was right, as he usually was. With a sigh, Quatre decided he wanted to help build a stable lifestyle for Ali. If he wouldn't help a child rebuild their life, what was the point in holding the title of a soldier who fought for peace?

"Well, I'm willing to help," he offered.

Trowa nodded at his good friend in gratitude, glad that he would have more support in helping little Ali.

"Thank you, friend,"

xo

With the ring of his mobile phone and a quick conversation, Quatre had to leave in regards to business. Saying goodbye to Trowa and little Ali, Quatre left the two alone to carry on with their own day.

By the time he had left, Ali had finally finished her bowl of cereal, leaving a spill of milk and broken flakes of cereal behind. She took it among herself to pick up the bowl and place it in the sink. Trowa watched as she stood on her tip toes and tried to reach for the tap, another of his many smiles stretching upon his soft lips.

"_Sweet kid,"_ he thought, continuing to scrutinize her actions. _"Clearly, her parents couldn't see that." _

Pushing his pungent thoughts aside, Trowa walked over to Ali. Standing behind her, his big hands held her small ones and helped them to reach the tap. As he helped her wash the bowl, Ali smiled, enjoying the moment of bonding with the kind man who had helped her and fed her.

And what she didn't know was that Trowa was enjoying the role of being a fatherly figure to her.

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><p>This, honestly, isn't my best work. So sorry about this. :( Well, feel free to review! :)<p> 


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